Negativity
by Aishiyurii
Summary: Lulu is learning to walk all over again! Chapter 8 is UP!
1. Prologue

Negativity: Prologue  
  
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Hi, I'm Lulu Taylor, and I'm currently chained to the wall in this prison cell. I've only one wing (jerk tore my other one out)-if you can call it that, it's so mangled you can't tell. My hair is matted with blood, my clothes are stained and reek of it. I'm being held hostage by some crazy dude who thinks mutants should rule the world.  
  
Yeah. I said he was crazy.  
  
I'm expecting the X-Men to burst in here and save me- any minute now. But....they're not coming. If they survived, they're not gonna come here, not to save someone as useless as me.  
  
I shift in my position against the wall, my head hanging like I'm some kind of marionette doll, tossed to the sideafter its owner's done with it. I rubbed my wrist absently, the chains clawing at my bony hands. My eye flashes red, but it's useless. There's no one around to use my powers on....  
  
My mutant abilities are useless here, useless everywhere. I'm a failure as an X-Man, a mutant and a person in general. Yeah, I'm sulking. You would to if you were in a dark cell, lit only by an old overhead light, a red light that casts a crimson glow over you. As red as blood it seems.... How very...ironic. Okay, time for mandatory, hokey-flashback to see the events that led up to this...  
  
Here we go.  
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Disclaimer: THE X-MEN DO NOT BELONG TO ME, I DO NOT CLAIM TO OWN THEM, THEY BELONG TO MARVEL. Had to get that in there so Marvel wouldn't sue me. Not like I've got any money anyways. ^^;; All the original characters belong to me (Frostbite, Negativity, Rift, Inferno, etc) and you can't use them unless you ask me first. So there. (AishiyuriiKomojo@neo.rr.com) 


	2. Chapter I: A Girl Called Lu

Chapter I: A Girl Called Lu  
  
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A girl with long black hair and boring brown eyes stared back at me in the mirror. Boring. Boring, boring, boring. I sighed, and decided this purple and white striped spaghetti strap top and a pair of old faded jeans were acceptable. Oh yeah, I should note this for ya: the boring girl in the mirror? That'd be me (duh!).  
  
I grabbed my backpack, kissed my mom goodbye and then ran out the door. Hi, I'm Lulu Taylor, and this was my boring life. I had a dog, Harvey, a brother, Tom, a parakeet, Ziggy, and no boyfriend (and it was gonna stay that way).  
  
As I walked to school, I'll tell you what I can remember about that day's events. Gym: yay, more physical activity (isn't it enough to breathe?); math: test today! Guess who was failing! I can't stop thinking in exclamation marks! I rubbed my head slowly, I'd had a horrible headache for the last week, was it? Yeah. Um, one more thing: science. Loved science, next best thing to medical studies. I was studying to be a doctor; exciting, huh?  
  
Oh, last (but definetely least), I had French. Mon Français est très stinky, oui? That should tell ya somethin'. Ah, here we are, I thought as I walked the stairs to my school. Tra-la-la-la-la-la, happy we are, in our disgustingly putrid school. Yeah. Can ya tell I loved school? I was sooo looking forward to college.  
  
Note the sarcasm that dripped from my words- err, thoughts. Well, I won't bore you to death with all the details of that day, so let's just skip ahead to the important stuff, shall we?  
  
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Free at last, free at least, thank God Almighty, I'm free at last! My happy happy mind shouted shortly before I tripped and fell flat on my face, narrowly avoiding smashing my glasses. I looked back over my shoulder as my schoolmates laughed. What did I trip over? To this day I still don't know. I'm thinking my headache threw me off so mcuh that I had tripped over my own feet. Anyways..  
  
I not-so-gracefully picked myself up, dusted myself off, and picked up my books. Ugh, I was dizzy. I needed to get home before I passed out in front of the school...I must have aggravated my headache, because it had moved to behind my right eye...ouch, did it hurt! I rubbed it as I waited for my best friend, Cael.  
  
Let me recap that school day for ya: I kicked butt at dodgeball....for the FIRST THREE MINUTES. Then I was promptly BASHED IN THE BUTT by some perverted boys that had nothing better to do than bash boring girls in the butt. Oh look, alliteration. I suppose English DOES help in real life! Math test: Failed. Let's move on with our lives, shall we? I put the shredder to good use later that night. Science: boring. I was tired of getting stuck with Stinky Sturky for science. Blech, he smelled like a dump truck truck. French: can we say, puez-un-riffic? There ya go, I knew ya could.  
  
"Hey Lulu," said a voice. I'd turned to see my best friend (NOT boyfriend) Cael Lintz. "Hi Cael," I said as we started to walk. He'd lived in the house next to mine, and we'd been neighbors all our lives. "How'd ya do on the math test," he asked me. I simply sighed. "Not so good huh," he said as he continued on about how easy math was and tried to explain to me how to do equations and other boring algebra crap.  
My eye had really started to hurt. "Ouch," I cried, grabbing the offending eye.  
"Are you okay," he stopped long enough to ask. I nodded and we continued home. I rubbed it, trying all the while to listen to Cael's droning on about this and this and that, til the throb dulled a bit, then dropped my hand to the side. What happened next may be a little gross for those who are faint of heart, so ya might wanna skip ahead a little; trust me, ya won't miss much.  
  
Pop!  
  
What just went pop, I had wondered. Little did I know, that I really did NOT wanna know what just went pop.  
  
There was something warm running down my face.  
  
I reached up to my right eye, which my vision had already blurred red in. Blood. My eye was bleeding! This couldn't be good. Pain shot through my back, such immense pain....I remember dropping my books everywhere. I didn't know what had happened to me back then, but I do now: I had gone though 'the change'.  
  
"Lulu," Cael shouted. He'd dropped his books and backpack and backed away from me. I odn't blame him for that now, I probably would have done the same thing had this happened to him.  
  
There was blood all over my shirt, the sidewalk, and my forearms. My stomach turned sour at the sight of it, just to know it was mine. "Ack!" A red flash blinded me, instinctively causing me to close both of my eyes. Bad idea, I decided as my right eye EXPLODED with pain, and everything had went black as my back caught on fire, and slowly split open...  
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Disclaimer: THE X-MEN DO NOT BELONG TO ME, I DO NOT CLAIM TO OWN THEM, THEY BELONG TO MARVEL. Had to get that in there so Marvel wouldn't sue me. Not like I've got any money anyways. ^^;; All the original characters belong to me (Frostbite, Negativity, Rift, Inferno, etc) and you can't use them unless you ask me first. So there. (AishiyuriiKomojo@neo.rr.com) 


	3. Chapter II: Arrival

Chapter II: Arrival  
  
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The X-Jet whizzed through the sky at lightning speed; they had been contacted by a frantic mother whose daughter had collapsed in a puddle of blood and feathers on the way home a few hours earlier. Naturally, Charles Xavier, being the good-hearted man that he was, had to come to the rescue.  
  
Wolverine, Husk, Iceman, Beast and Frostbite had taken the job and were now en route to Asheveille, Ohio. "Where's the nearest airstrip, again," asked the Japanese woman who was piloting the jet. "No airstrip, kid, we land in the street," said the gruff-voiced Wolverine. "Didn't the Professor do that once," Husk asked. "Yeah, I think so," answered Iceman. He winked at his fellow ice-elemental, who looked nervous at his answer. "Nervous, Frostbite," he asked.  
  
Her response, which was to form a snowball with her mind and chuck it at his head, warranted a chuckle from Beast and Wolverine. "Just watch for civilians, don't land on any trees and you'll be fine," advised the blue-furred intellectual. His confidence helped the blue-haired girl to relax....but not much.  
  
"There, land there," commanded Husk, who had memorized their destination coordinates. Frostbite slowed the jet, let up on the boosters, and nervously performed an almost-flawless landing. She leaned back in her seat, relieved to be back on the ground again. "Good job, Frostbite, though I'm not quite sure the tree-huggers will appreciate your landing target," chuckled Beast. She leaned forward, glancing out the windshield as the others disembarked. Poor tree, she thought.  
  
Outside, Wolverine and Husk were already speaking with the local authorities, who were called on the scene on account of the mutant slurs already spray-painted across the house.  
  
Beast and Iceman had already made their way up to the residence. Frostbite walked up behind them and introduced herself to the woman. "I'm Maureen Taylor. Come in, come in," said the tired-looking, red-eyed and distraught woman. "It's my daughter. We found her outside, l-lying on the ground. Sh-she was screaming and there was b-blood....so much blood..." The brown-haired woman burst into tears at the very thought of her own child in so much pain and her being so powerless to help. Frostbite moved to Maureen's side and comforted her. Maureen pointed to the stairs amidst tears, where a trail of blood ran from outside to the hall up the staircase.  
  
Beast and Iceman proceeded up the stairs, Beast first as to examine the girl. Beast warily opened the door where the tail stopped....  
  
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"Hey, she's wakin' up," I heard a young voice say.  
  
I opened my eyes -eye, rather- very slowly. I was bombarded with light; I could barely make out the unfamiliar faces and many eyes, all that were focused on me. I feared the worst: I had died and they were cutting me at the autopsy place. Yeah. I never said I was sane.  
  
I quickly squeezed my eye shut, I couldnt' see well out of it anyways. I couldn't move my body at all, I'd tried. Just tried squirming a little...  
  
"If you insist on moving, my dear, I will be forced to strap your arms down," said a warm voice. I decided to take his advice My back felt like it was on fire! I moaned, trying to tell them that I should still be on the sidewalk in front of my house. "Your mother called us, Madison. You collapsed on your way home from school," said a voice. Well, duh!! I know that, I had thought. I just wanted to know how I had gotten HERE, whereever HERE was.  
  
I squeezed my good (left) eye closed, and resisted the urge to scream, both from pain, and the frustration of being in TOO MUCH pain to talk! Not that I could scream anyways, I was to weak to even open my mouth then....  
  
"Your X-gene has manifested itself, Madison," said a warm, caring voice. X-gene, I had thought. Was I a mutant? I actually didn't care much then, I just hoped to God that they would give me some morphine or something, since I had already firgued I was in some kind of hospital or something. "Yes Madison, you are. Your abilities are, as of yet to us, unknown, but we should all known after we run a few test," explained the non-existant man. He said the T-word: tests! Plural, not singular! ....Wait til no one's looking, then run run like a bat out of hell....straight into a wall, because I am as blind as a bat in one eye.  
  
The man chuckled...wait, I hadn't said that out loud, had I? He must be laughing at something else.... (I wouldn't know it til later, but I hadn't. Don't worry, all will be revealed...soon.) I started to shake really violently about then, the pain being too much for me. Plus, I was really, really cold then...  
  
I flinched as I felt a LONG needle be inserted into my back. It must have been morphine or something, cause some of the pain subsided, and my head became fuzzy...I cautiously opened my left eye, ever so slowly, just to see where I was. I could make out the outlines of some of the people very fuzzily...one person, he looked like he was blue! They must have given me some strong painkiller, I had thought, because the man was blue!  
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Disclaimer: THE X-MEN DO NOT BELONG TO ME, I DO NOT CLAIM TO OWN THEM, THEY BELONG TO MARVEL. Had to get that in there so Marvel wouldn't sue me. Not like I've got any money anyways. ^^;; All the original characters belong to me (Frostbite, Negativity, Rift, Inferno, etc) and you can't use them unless you ask me first. So there. (AishiyuriiKomojo@neo.rr.com) 


	4. Chapter III: The Infirmary

Chapter III: the Infirmary  
  
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I squeezed my eye shut again, too much light, darnit! I must have looked like a chicken-wuss because I refused to keep my eye open. I was still in sooo much pain. I gritted my teeth when the slowly pulled the needle out again. I may gonna be a doctor, but I STILL didn't like needles, I had thought to myself. Then it hit me: why wasn't my mom there? I mean, the way my mom was, she would have fought any person she had to to be with me then. So why wasn't she there with me?   
  
I tried to signal that I had something to say, but I was so drugged I couldn't even get my arm off the...thing I was on. Can't call them tables, but ya can't call them beds either; they're not soft enough! I started to feel really woozy and dizzy. I squeezed my eye shut even tighter, but it didn't help the dizziness. "The painkiller may make you drowzy," the man had begun, but I'd already drifted off to sleep....  
  
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When I woke up again, I was able to open my eye now, because the lights had been dimmed. I moaned and willed my arms to move, but I found that they'd been strapped down to the....thingy. Whoopee. I glanced around slowly: the room was metal, and the only other person there was someone lying in the bed. It looked like an infirmary; granted, a high-tech one, but not quite...white enough or cramped enough to be a hospital.  
  
"Oh good, you're awake now," chirped a cheerful voice.  
  
A dark-haired woman in a white nurse's dress appeared from out of nowhere. She set a book -a romance novel- at the foot of my bed as she approached me. "How are you feeling?"  
  
.....  
  
"Oh, I'm sorry, I forgot about the painkiller: it's so strong you can't talk." I think I'm aware of that, lady, I had thought. She gave me an apologetic smile and patted my hand gently. "I'm Annie Ghazikhanian, I'm the nurse here," she informed me. She sat on the edge of my bed-table and started checking me over as she talked. "You're at the Xavier Institute for Gifted Youngsters; I know, it's a long name, huh? You collapsed on the sidewalk." I gathered that. "Professor Xavier sent some people out to get you and bring you here."  
  
Wait, here? Were was here? "Where....r'we," I managed to mumble. I was still too drugged to talk intelligently, but I got my point across. "We're in New York, Madison."  
  
Hell no.  
  
I looked around, starting to panick. "M...mom..."  
  
She patted my hand re-assuredly. "Your mother couldn't come, sweetheart. Don't worry; I'm here for you." I nodded slowly, not wanting the pain to shoot up my back. I didn't want to sound baby-ish, but I wanted my mommy. "Am I....gon' be...okee," I choked out, my voice hoarse from being so dry. She gave me a warm smile. "You should be fine," said Annie. She reached forward smoothed my hair back. "You need to rest for right now, and we'll see how you feel tomorrow, ok?"  
  
I'd been lying in that bed for awhile, I wanted to get up! I simply nodded again, and Annie dimmed the light above my head even more. "I'll be right here if you need anything, ok," she said as she retreived her book and settled into a chair; a chair between mine, and the other guy in the infirmary. She began to talk softly; I assumed she was reading the book to him. I listened to her words, not being able to make them out with my head being so fuzzy, but they still helped me relax, and I fell asleep.  
  
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I woke up the next morning around 9:23 (I could swivel my neck just enough to see the clock) and tried to sit up. Oh yes, I'm strapped to the table, I remembered. Table, bed, whatever. Annie wasn't there, but the man in the bed still was. He didn't look like he'd moved any. He must be real sick then. I angled my neck up at the light above my head, which looked like one of those blowdryer things they pull over your head at the hairdresser. Someone had shut it off, but that wasn't the only thing I had noticed. Something white, and fluffy looking, but my glasses weren't on, and my mind was still a lil foggy from the painkillers.  
  
My throat felt a little better, but still very dry. I had an IV in my arm, and I was wearing one of those paper-thin white hospital gowns. I noticed that I still had my undergarments on; thanks to whoever allowed me to save a SMALL shred of my dignity.  
  
"Good morning, my dear; how are you feeling," asked a voice. I glanced around til a spotted a furry-looking guy...a very blue guy. Whoohoo, dontcha love hallucinations, I had thought to myself. "Okay...m'arms," I mumbled, trying to free them. He reached for the straps, but paused and looked up at me, pushing his glasses up further on his nose. "You must promise not to move them to much, or your stitches will come open," he said, a very serious look on his face. Well, at leats as serious as a blue-furred guy can get.  
  
I nodded numbly, and he unstrapped my arms. "Thank you," I said. "Oh dear, forgive me miss, I haven't introduced myself yet," he did a little bow. "I'm-"  
  
"McCoy...the doctor from....the TV," I cut in, not meaning to be rude but being excited in that I had recognized him. He always looked that way, which was nice for me because that meant I wasn't hallucinating. Or crazy.  
  
"Yes," he said, flashing a toothy grin as he reached over my head and fiddled with something. "You're at the Xavier Institute in New York; can you tell e your name?" I figured him as being the man I'd heard talk before; his voice sounded similar, so I knew he knew my name already, and knowing the procedures the doctors go through, I began to recite various facts about my life. "Madison Alexandria Taylor; my nickname is Lulu; I have one older brother, Tom; my parents' names are Johnathan and Maureen Taylor, my mother's maiden name is McKellen-"  
  
"Ah, so you're familiar with medical procedures then, I presume," said the good doctor.  
  
I nodded, mumbling to myself more than to him, "I was...gon' be a doctor...but now...." My voice trailed off. "Now what," he queried, pausing to look at me. I looked up at him, "My eye...it's messed up...isn't it?" I had been pretty sure I was blind in it; I mean, it couldn't have just bled a hundred million buckets of blood and I'd still have sight in it, right? HEY! "Xavier....mutant school?" I talked so smartly, just like mah hickabilly cousin/uncle Jeb.  
  
"Yes, that's right; why?"  
  
"Am I...."  
  
"A mutant," he finished. "Yes," he confirmed. "Yes you are." And with thathe continued fiddling. "Ouch," I said. Wait...ouch? "What...."   
  
"Oh, did not Anne tell you? You have wings now."  
  
Screeeeeeeeeeeeeeeech. "Um....what?"  
  
"I know this may be alot for you to absorb at the moment, but blah blah blah blah." Ok, so he didn't say the last few words, but my mind had went to frolick in the flowers like the pansy that it is. Wings? I had wings? I slowly reached back behind me, and grabbed something soft, and, of course, I HAD to pull it. "OUCH!"  
  
"I would advise you not to do that again," said Doctor McCoy. I looked at the feather in my hand: it was pure white...minus some of the blood that comes from YANKING YOUR OWN FEATHERS OUT! "Wings....wings? Wings," I glanced over my shoulder: there they were. They seemed to be smiling at me, almost mocking me, for some reason. And then it hit me. This would change my life. Forever. I couldn't go home, I couldn't become a doctor, I couldn't...I started to sniffle in spite of myself. I knew it wasn't a death sentence to be a mutant, but at that time it sure felt like it.  
  
Doctor McCoy patted me reassuredly on the shoulder. "Being a mutant isn't as bad as you may think it may be," he said. "I'll let you have a few moments to think," he said, and bounded out of the room before I could protest. Tears pricked at the corners of my eyes. Cael was with me when it happened! I could never...what if someone form school had seen me? All kinda of horrible worst-case scenarios ran through my head, until...  
"Gutenmorgen, Verlust," said an accented German voice. I tried to pull myself up after hearing the man, but the pain shooting up my back made me decide against it. "Do not get up," said the German.  
  
That was a good idea.  
  
BAMF!  
  
Another blue-furred man appeared before me in purple, foul-smelling cloud. But he has only 3 fingers on each hand, a forked tail...and pointed teeth. Plus, he was alot thinner than Dr. McCoy.  
  
"Uh...are you related to...Dr. McCoy," I asked dumbly. He chuckled and perched on the end of my bed. "If that vere so, perhaps I vould have scored higher on the IQ test, ja," quipped the German. I gave him a weak smile and shook his hand just as weakly.  
  
"I am Kurt Vagner, how are you feeling this morning, mein freund," he had asked me. "I'm okay," I replied, hoping the tears wouldn't choose now to flow down my cheeks. "It's.....still a shock for me," I admitted to him, knowing that he would know what I meant by 'it'. 'It' need not be spoken.  
  
"That's perfectly normal," he answered me. "It's something you come to terms with....eventually," his yellow eyes had shone with hope when he encouraged me. I liked him immediately, he had a joking air about him. It made me feel better to have someone else with a....physical mutation to not act as if their life were over. Gave me a little hope back then...  
  
"You looked terrible vhen they brought you in, Madison." Did everybody know my name? "You look much better now, you've got colour to your face," he informed me. "I wouldn't know, I can't see my face," I noted jokingly. He paused, as if contemplating something. "You vill soon enough," he said as the door whoooooshed open again, and in came a tall guy with red shades, and a woman with hair that matched them. I didn't like the look on the man's face; he looked like he either had a stick up his butt, or he ate a bug.  
  
The woman chuckled as they approached us, at some invisible funny person, I had assumed then. Mr. Vag -errr, Wagner- bamfed over to them and discussed something with the man as the red-head walked over to me. "How are you feeling thing morning, Madison," she asked me. I cleared my throat and rubbed the sheets with my fingertips. Something about her made me a little...uneasy. "Kinda thirsty," I said.  
  
Before I knew what had happened, a glass of water appeared in front of my face. I blinked. I blinked again. Um, what? "How..."  
  
"Telekinesis. I'm a psy," she said, sitting on the edge of my bed. "I'm Jean. Jean Grey-Summers. The 'guy in the red shades' over there is my husband, Scott. I'm assuming you've already met Kurt?" I nodded, taking the glass weakly in my arms. I felt sooo tired!  
  
Grumble, grumble.  
  
All eyes were on me. Apparently, I was hungry too. I had never been so embarassed in my life right then, well, besides the time that kid threw up on me in 3rd grade. Mrs. Grey-Summers laughed as I sipped the water. "You sound hungry too," she said as she stared off in space for a second, then stood up again. "Hank says it's ok for you to have something to eat. I'll bring something from the cafeteria for you; what would you like," she asked me. It happened too fast for my tiny, drugged brain to comprehend. I didn't know who Hank was, but I was darn hungry! "Something...something edible," I said, I wasn't too picky just then.  
  
She laughed again and left. I finished my water and passed the empty glass to my other hand, so I could rub my eye. It itched something awful, I tell ya. I noticed the men gesture to me every so often as they talked. I shifted in the bed, trying to get comfortable. This caused a lone feather to fall from what I assumed was one of my wings gently, down to my face. This annoyed my muchly. I blew it out of my face, but it decided to land there again. I blew it vehemently until it relented and fell to the floor. I was annoyed enough at everything without having that most annoying thing annoy me.  
  
I grinned and made a happy noise at my victory. Yo, man, I was the shiznit. Word.  
  
Okay, I'll stop now. "Madison," said a voice, a voice who so rudely interupted my inner victory dance. "I looked at the red shades guy. "What?"  
  
"We're going to sit you up now," we being him and Kurt. I didn't have a chance to protest before I felt hands on my sides pulling me up. After about 46574435 pillows were shoved behind my back so I wouldn't fall over, and it took even longer because they had to situate them between my wings. "Ouchies, ouchies, ouchies," I repeated before I was eased back on the pillow. I turned my neck to the side -very, very slowly- to take a good look at my wings: very, very big, white, and feathery. Yeah, they're wings, how much more detailed can ya get? Well, now that I think about it, they were kinda red and swollen...  
  
I reached out and ran my hand down the left wing and frowned. How was I going to drive now? Okay, so that was very shallow to think, but back then I was really excited about learning to drive. Not that that'll help me now, but I digress. I poked the wing repeatedly, expecting it to smack me in the face or something. Then I thought, when can I get outta here? (Yeah, I had the attention span of a gnat back then, so sue me.) "When can I get up? And go home," I asked, rubbing my eye with my free hand. Mr. Wagner gently grabbed my hand to halt my rubbing. "Don't rub, you vill make it worse," he commanded.  
  
"Whenever Hank clears it, you can leave the infirmary," said Mr...Summers was it? Yes, Summers. "What about going home," I asked. "That...I don't know," he said. Oh yeah. That sure made me feel better. "Can I talk to my mom?"  
  
"Hey guys, I brought food," said another voice. Wasn't Mrs. Grey-Summers-whatever supposed to bring my food, I had thought. Not that I shoulda been too picky. I looked up at a sandy-haired guy with ice-coloured shades. Does everybody wear shades around here? "No, no need to thank me, really," he said, setting the tray on the table near my bed. "Uh thanks...where's Mrs. Grey-Summers," I asked.  
  
"Jean hadda go do...somethin," said the dude, giving a sheepish smile and straddling the backward seat. I learned later that she had been called by someone and had asked him to take the food and her apologies to me. Men. I looked at the tray: a bowl of chicken soup, a glass of orange juice and a muffin. Peach orange mango juice, I had thought after sipping it. It was my favorite, but how could...  
  
"Nice wings ya got there kid, not as impressive as Warren's, but," he poked my wing. "Still better than mine." I frowned. "But you don't have any wings," I protested.  
  
"Exactly."  
  
O-kaaaaayy. He was a little oo-oo in the noo-noo. I sipped my juice as Mr. Summers strode out, looking as if he owned all the world. Okay, so he had seemed a little cold at first, but he's not so bad. "Excuse me, frau," said the blue man shortly before poofing away. He poofed back in a flash (ha ha) and gave the blue shades dude a stern look. "Behave yourself, Bobby," he instructed. "Chill out Kurt, she's just a kid." Okay. DON'T LEAVE ME HERE WITH THE SCARY MAN, MR. WAGNER! He simply shook his head and bamfed away again.  
  
Bobby pulled his chair closer to my bed and ran a hand through his hair. "What's your name, kid?"  
  
"Lul...err, Madison."  
  
"Okay Lul-err-Madison, where are ya from?" Smarty butt. I could tell he would be my new annoying lil feather.  
  
"Ohio. And I want to go home," I demanded, pulling the tray onto my lap and taking a bite of my muffin. "Awww, but you just got here," he lamented. "You don't wanna go home yet."  
  
"Yes I do...my mom...MY MOM! I haveta call my mom," I cried. "Your mom's gonna call later to check up on you."  
  
"Why isn't she here," I demanded to know after I'd finished my muffin. Mmm. Blueberry.  
  
"She had to stay home to file a police report."  
  
Police report? "Police report? What police report?"  
  
He had a look of 'uh oh I should not have said that' on his face. He started to bolt, but I reached out and grabbed his arm. "Why, Mr. Bob?"  
  
He raised an eyebrow at that name, but answered with, "Some anti-mutant graffiti was painted all over your house."  
  
"You mean my garage," I cut in.  
  
"No, I mean your house."  
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Disclaimer: THE X-MEN DO NOT BELONG TO ME, I DO NOT CLAIM TO OWN THEM, THEY BELONG TO MARVEL. Had to get that in there so Marvel wouldn't sue me. Not like I've got any money anyways. ^^;; All the original characters belong to me (Frostbite, Negativity, Rift, Inferno, etc) and you can't use them unless you ask me first. So there. (AishiyuriiKomojo@neo.rr.com) 


	5. Chapter IV: My House!

Notes: Hey! Thanks to my first three reviewers, nottheslayer, the wolf child, and my bro Derr, for their extremely encouraging reviews. ^_^ I admit, I showed it off to my two best friends. I COULDN'T HELP IT, SOMEONE'S ACTUALLY READING THIS! And they agreed Lulu's not a Mary Sue, which makes my heart sing. ^_^ Really. Also, side-note: if someone would suggest any better names for the chapters, I'd be muchly grateful, cause I ain't the best at naming things. Anyways, On with the new chapter, yo!  
  
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Chapter IV: My house?!  
  
In my frustration of my mom not being there, coupled with the fact that I was now a mutant (which I had never been against mutants, but then again, back then I had never expected to be one either), and my eye being blinded, it was really to much for me then. I attempted to jump out of the bed, and make a dramatic exit to call my mommy. But of course, like all good plans, it didn't work that way. Instead, I almost flipped the bed over on both me and Mr. Dude; I'd forgotten about my newly acquired wings, and couldn't compensate enough for their weight.  
  
"Whoa there," said Mr. Bob, grabbing the bed before it crushed us, but not before I'd fallen flat on my face. He pushed it back over and chuckled. "Need some help there?"  
  
"No, I don't need help," I snapped back. I hadn't meant to be mean, but I was humiliated. I felt my face flush as I laid there in deperation, trying to help myself up. I still couldn't lift myself up. It was those darn wings. After a few seconds (have I mentioned I'm not a patient person?) I finally gave up, and resided to sulk on the cold, metal floor.   
  
"Are you suuuure you don't need help up," asked Mr. New Annoying Lil Feather. "A phone would be nice," I muttered.  
  
"And you would talk on the floor?"  
  
I gave an irritated sigh. "A phone, a computer. Something to contact my mom with. Please," I asked again as he leaned over to help me up. He helped me back into the bed; I winced, my back felt like it was about to split open again from moving. I eased back into the bed, rubbing my eyes. "I'll be back in a couple, kid," he said, shoving his hand into his pockets. I sat back and looked across the room at the other guy here, the guy laying in the bed. I couldn't see him well, but I knew he was pale, and he had a scar over his eye. Hmm.  
  
I looked over at the nightstand table thingy that held my breakfast tray. There was something else there: a pen. Hallelujah.  
  
I reached over and grabbed the pen.   
  
Clickclickclickclicketyclickclickclickclickclick.  
  
Did I mention that clicking a pen repeatedly is a bad habit of mine?   
  
"That clicking is very unnerving," said an icy voice. I looked up to see a VERY light-skinned Asian woman with long black hair, a single streak of blue going through it to match her eyes.  
  
"Sorry," I muttered, though I hadn't really been sorry. Hey, I was nervous, you can't blame me for that. "Who are you?"  
  
"My friends call me Frosty," she informed. Frosty the Snow Woman. Haha. "Lulu," I said, shaking her hand weakly. I still felt kinda sick, and I was a lil shook up from almost dying by way of MONSTROUSLY BIG METAL BED! Her hand was like...ice, for lack of better metaphor. Or simile. Or analogy or something. I failed literature class. Or was it English? I guess it doesn't really matter now.  
  
"Are you feeling up for some fresh air," she asked. "I could find a wheelchair for you."  
  
While I wasn't crazy about having to be pushed around in a wheelchair, I thought maybe some fresh air would be good for me. Except one thing.  
  
"Um, yeah, that'd be nice but......these hospital gowns aren't the most modest things, ya know," I said, pulling at it as if to prove it. "I think I'll wait. I have to call my mom anyways."  
  
"Oh, there's no need to call your mother, she'll be bringing your things up for you."  
  
Schreeeeeeeeeeech, crash! "Um, what," I had started clicking again. Click click!  
  
She eyed my precious pen as she spoke. "Your mother is bringing your belongings up soon. She said she wanted you to make an easier transition."  
  
SCREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEECH!  
  
"Um, what again," I said as she snatched my beloved pen away. Precious! Precioussssss......I took instead to rubbing my eye furiously, to rid it of its itch. "Oh, nobody told you. You'll be enrolling here soon; your mother thinks it's best if you stay here til the......well, til things settle down a little," she said, letting out a small sigh at the end. I could see her breath; it wasn't cold in the room, so I assumed that was why they called her Frosty.  
  
I sat back on the bed and sulked, ignoring the pain in my back (can't sulk convincingly if you're wincing) and crossed my arms. "It was nice of her to ask me," I muttered.   
  
She had opened her mouth to say something, but she stopped. Still don't remember why, but whatever. She excused herself quietly and left.   
  
The rest of that day went pretty uneventfully (sorry I don't go into much detail; I actually can't remember much of the rest of the day): I knocked over a table with my wings, knocked over Bobby with my wings, and split the stitches in my back open. Oh, and Mr. Wagner brought me some WordSearches to do. How I love WordSearches. What I wouldn't give for one right now....  
  
So, let's recap that day, shall we? Met Mr. Summers, his wife, Mr. Wagner, Mr. Bob and Ms. Frosty. Ate breakfast (which I don't normally do), ripped my stitches open, ate a fruit cup at dinner (not a lifetime achievement, but I really like fruit cups; ya know, the ones with the fruit in the Jello?) and then attempted to go to sleep after being told that my mom would be there to next day to bring my swag by. I had a few choice words for her. At least, I thought I had...  
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Disclaimer: THE X-MEN DO NOT BELONG TO ME, I DO NOT CLAIM TO OWN THEM, THEY BELONG TO MARVEL. Had to get that in there so Marvel wouldn't sue me. Not like I've got any money anyways. ^^;; All the original characters belong to me (Frostbite, Negativity, Rift, Inferno, etc) and you can't use them unless you ask me first. So there. (AishiyuriiKomojo@neo.rr.com) 


	6. Chapter V: The Next Morning

Notes: Sorry about the shortness of the last chapter; I got distracted. They should be longer from now on. ^^ As always, read and review. Even if it's a flame. Of course, if it's a flame, that's the same as giving me written permission to post it on the site, ridicule you with my friends and point and laugh as you go by on the street, "That's the loser who flamed me! I'm making fun of him/her now! Haha!" Hehe. ^_^ Constructive criticism is best.  
  
More Notes: I got 4 more reviews in the time that I was typing this, so....^_^ thanks for the reviews, intriKate, indigo, and KS-fan! As for KS-fan's request for Wolverine, it comes very soon. ^_^ I too love Wolverine. *points to huge stacks of Wolverine back issues* Now, on with the story!  
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Chapter V: The Next Morning  
  
The next morning I awoke in a rather painful position: I had apparently tossed and turned so much that I was now on my belly, wings spread over the sides, and my leg poking out through the protective railing of the bed. If only I slept that good now...  
  
I tried to go back to sleep after freeing my leg from the bed, but to no avail. Mr. Sun shined his happy happy rays through the window and told me that 9:30 was an appropriate time to wake. I don't even wake up til 10:30 at home...This is why I say Mr. Sun has lost his marbles. I managed to pull myself up in the bed, slowly as to not split my seams (again) and because I was still half asleep, not to mention the extra dead weight on my back wasn't helping anything. I rubbed the sleep out of my good eye, then rubbed my bad eye because it itched like mad.   
  
Mrs. Grey-Springs or Summers or Winters or something came in and helped me get dressed: an over-sized grey sweatshirt (which hung loosely off me, but was approriate because it had holes in the back for my wings; I later learned it was borrowed from a fellow winged person) and a pair of jeans that was a size too big. She found my glasses for me too, but I decided against wearing them because Dr. McCoy had told me my eyes would be very sensitive to light. I opted for my purple shades instead.  
  
Her husband came in and helped me into a wheelchair, then wheeled me out of the infirmary. I got some stares from the residents of the school, but not too many, which helped me feel a little better. Maybe this place isn't so bad, I had thought. That was another one of my great understatements.  
  
Anyways, the red-head and the shades guy made small-talk as they wheeled me out. I wasn't paying much attention then, I was gawking at the rather large estate. I rubbed my eye as I was wheeled out to the front. Mrs. Grey-What's-The-Other-Name put her hand over my fist gently. "Rubbing'll only make it worse, Madison." So I stopped. For 20 secods. Then I rubbed again. It really itched, and it was starting to sting now from rubbing it so hard.  
  
She just sighed as a taxi drove up. Rub rub rub. Mr. What's-His-Last Name went over to the taxi and helped unload the bags (which I recognized at the luggage belonging to my mother), boxes and other stuff from the Magic-Taxi-That-Can-Hold-Lotsa-Swag.  
  
"Is that my mom," I asked the lady. It was obvious, but I hadda ask anyways. She smiled at me warmly and nodded. She pushed me towards the taxi as I lifted a hand to shield my eyes from the sun, shortly before being smothering by someone sobbing extremely loudly. I am still embarassed to this day (I love my Mother but hey, she didn't need to CRY).  
  
I tried to tell her I couldn't breathe, but she was still too busy smothering me. My face turned red as I protested. "Mom, you're making a scene," I whispered.  
  
She sniffled. "I'm sorry sweetheart, but I was so worried about you," she said, cupping my face in her hands. "And now you're going to be boarding so far away," she continued. Actually, Ohio is right underneath New York, if I'm correct (but then again, I failed geography too). I didn't say that to her though; I understood what she was feeling. I decided that bringing up those few choice words would be, at that moment, not good. So I didn't say them, I hadn't the heart.  
  
I hugged her back, wincing when she hugged too tight. "Sorry, honey," sniffle. "They told me about your stitches, but I guess I forgot." I wish I could have forgotten too. I rubbed my eye and she went through the usual mom stuff: change your underwear every day, don't talk to strangers, eat right, stay healthy, no kissing, smoking, drinking and/or substance abuse. Mind is wandering, mom, I had thought. She dabbed at her eyes with a tissue as she talked to Mrs. Grey-Summers (haha I remembered then).  
  
I knew this would be harder on her than it would be on me, cause I was the only one she had left. Tom moved out some time ago, and Dad had been killed a few years back. I miss him alot, even now...  
  
I won't bore you with the rest of the good-byes, but here's what basically happened: Mom cried, and cried, and cried some more, then got back in the taxi to go to the airport. I made a mental note to call her the next day and check up on her. After she left, a bunch of guys came from inside to carry my stuff upstairs, including Mr. Wagner, Mr. Bob and a guy with a French accent...but he moved too fast for me to say anything to him. Must be his powers.  
  
Mr. Summers wheeled me back into the Instiute, noting the rooms as we passed them. He took me to the stairs and carried me up (though I wish he had asked first, I'm not comfortable with men touching me, even if he WAS married). I was set back in the wheelchair, then told the rules of the girls' wing.  
  
"No boys allowed in the girls' wing. Curfew's at 10 o'clock, lights out at 11. No boys. You will have a roommate as soon as she arrives, so be considerate of her feelings. No boys," he re-iterated, as if I could GET a boy to follow em back to my room. As if I wanted to... "Are we clear?"  
  
"Very, Mr. Summers," I said. I would have said crystal, but I thought it was too hokey, even for me. Yes, even for me. He turned the knob to a door that said 'B-7'. There was a band called the B-15s once. Not that that has anything to do with this...  
  
The room was neat and tidty; there were two beds, one by a window, and one near the door. Both were made, and had nice, clean sheets on them. If I was going to be living here, this owuld not last long. Maybe a week. MAYBE. There were two dressers, and on the other side of the door there was a stand with a TV on it. Nice. Upon closer inspection, after he wheeled me into the room, it was found that there was a DVD player as well. Score!  
  
The boxes with what I had assumed were my belongings were stacked up in the corner near the first bed. Mr. Summers helped me to the bed, "Stop rubbing your eye."  
  
Which I had been doing since before my mom left, about 15 minutes ago. "It itches," I explained. "You'll make it worse," he argued. "But, it itches!" I could tell we wouldn't be getting along too well. Hey that rhymes! ....Ya got any dimes?   
  
.....Ok ok, I'll stop now.  
  
Anyways, he gave me a Look that said 'I'll be watching you, don't rub your eye', and then left, telling me he'd send someone in to help me. I shimmied across the bed and pulled a box into my lap marked 'posters'. Posters are always the first to go up. S'a rule, ya know. I went the box and found a lil box of tacks (moms think of everything, don't they?) then, thinking I could stand, proceeded to do so.   
  
Then I fell flat on my face.  
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Disclaimer: THE X-MEN DO NOT BELONG TO ME, I DO NOT CLAIM TO OWN THEM, THEY BELONG TO MARVEL. Had to get that in there so Marvel wouldn't sue me. Not like I've got any money anyways. ^^;; All the original characters belong to me (Frostbite, Negativity, Rift, Inferno, etc) and you can't use them unless you ask me first. So there. (AishiyuriiKomojo@neo.rr.com) 


	7. Chapter VI: My, What a Nice Carpet

Notes: Thanks to all my reviewers again ^_^ they've really made my week; I wrote an original story a long time ago and it didn't get any reviews, so this means alot to me. Feel free to email me with suggestions, questions, comments or whatever at AishiyuriiKomojo@neo.rr.com (it's kinda hard to type, you may be best off copying and pasting). ON WITH STORY!   
  
More Notes: Bravogurl and indigo reviewed while I was typing. THANK YOU!  
  
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Chapter VI: My, What a Nice Carpet  
  
My, what a nice carpet, I thought as I pulled my purple shades off my face. I thought I'd wait for someone to come help me up.   
  
......  
  
Why are they so slow?  
  
...........  
  
I'm NOT a patient person....I pushed myself up to my knees (after much struggling, of course). Ok, so I could sit on my legs til someone came. I hadn't the courage (or patience) to try to stand. I'm not a glutton for punishment. I winced at the sun and pushed my shades back onto my face. I looked around the room once again: very spacious (for a bedroom) and well-furnished.  
  
I ran my hands over my feathers slowly, pulling at the tips. For something causing me so much trouble, they sure were pretty. I pulled at a feather, just to see if I could feel it. Smart huh? "Ouch."  
  
"Molting already?"  
  
I looked up at the owner of the voice: a blonde girl -err, woman- a few years older than me. Dressed in pink. Yeah.  
  
"Yeah, I'm molting," I said sarcastically. "Can you help me up? I can't stand on my own."  
  
She came over and pulled me up, helping me back onto the bed. "Scott said I was to help you unpack. We'll start with your clothes."  
  
...Ok, I could tell she's just a wee bit controlling already. "Actually, I kinda wanted to put-"  
  
"These are your clothes, right?" She went through a box clearly labeled as 'clothes'. "No, those must be my elephants."  
  
Either she didn't hear me or chose to ignore me, because she didn't answer. I pulled the wheelchair over with my foot and slid into it. I managed to wheel myself over to the dresser, and I did so quickly for fear that she would put my clothes away before I could see where she put them (I'm a very organized person, as you will learn).  
  
"Lemme put 'em away, so I know where they are," I demanded, beginning to shove my jeans into the bottom drawer. "Aren't you going to fold them," she asked. "Why would I do that?"  
  
"So they'd be neat."  
  
"They are neat!"  
  
She raised her eyebrow at me as I finished 'putting' my clothes away. "So...."  
  
"So?"  
  
"If you don't mind me asking, why are you in a wheelchair," she asked as she went over to the other boxes.  
  
"Can't balance, it's the wings," I answered, pushing my shades up onto my nose.  
  
I glanced over and she pulled a box and spilled packing peanuts all over the floor as she began to rifle through it.. The side read 'P'. I immediately knew what it was.  
  
"Uh, that box you've got? It's um....it's got...unmentionables in it, so....."  
  
"Oh." She closed the box back up and set it aside. "These are your bed linens?" She held up my well-worn, but well-loved comforter that had turned from white to off-white, and the blue flowers faded.  
  
This was going to be a loooong night.  
  
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Disclaimer: THE X-MEN DO NOT BELONG TO ME, I DO NOT CLAIM TO OWN THEM, THEY BELONG TO MARVEL. Had to get that in there so Marvel wouldn't sue me. Not like I've got any money anyways. ^^;; All the original characters belong to me (Frostbite, Negativity, Rift, Inferno, etc) and you can't use them unless you ask me first. So there. (AishiyuriiKomojo@neo.rr.com) 


	8. Chapter VII: Learn to Crawl

Notes: Thanks to all my reviewers again ^_^ they've really made my week; I wrote an original story a long time ago and it didn't get any reviews, so this means alot to me. Feel free to email me with suggestions, questions, comments or whatever at AishiyuriiKomojo@neo.rr.com (it's kinda hard to type, you may be best off copying and pasting). ON WITH STORY!   
  
More Notes: I am sorry I have been MIA so much, but I'm back in action. ^_^ I've been inspired. Thanks to all of you who barraged me with emails to get my creative juices flowing again. You know who you are. ;) ON WITH STORY!  
  
More More notes: I got a superhero RPG now, so, check it out, if ya can. ^^  
  
http://pub117.ezboard.com/byoungsuperheroesrpg  
  
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Chapter VII: Learn to Crawl  
  
The next morning, Mr. Sun woke me up at about 7. He was so polite. I rolled over in my bed, as best I could with those darn wings getting in the way. I managed to get myself dressed (it took me almost an hour) and get into the wheelchair, and wheel myself out. If memory serves me correct, I think I had on a black tank top, yellow parachute cargos and my favorite pair of plaid Reeboks, and of course, I grabbed my purple shades on the way out.   
  
I went down the hall, it was about 8:15 then. Remembering where Mr. Summers had told me the bathrooms were, that was my first stop. After taking off my shades, I began to brush my teeth and went through the regular morning routine, when I noticed something was not right. Not right at all. I blinked my good eye a few times, but it still looked funny. It was green. I mean, my eye! It was green!  
  
My eyes were brown! My jaw went slack as I stared into the mirror. I didn't know whether to scream, or just....I didn't even know what my second option would be! Mrs. Grey-Summers (I remembered it again!) steped out of a shower stall just then and I stopped her before she went for her clothes.  
  
"What's wrong with my eyes," I asked, pointing ominously at them. "Well, one is bandaged-"  
  
"That's not what I mean. You know what I mean," I snapped rudely. I was not a morning person. Plus, I had just realized why I wasn't allowed to have a mirror. "Why is my eyes all freaky?" I was so literate and good with words back then. Was that just an oxymoron...?  
  
She looked a little taken aback, but put a soft hand on my shoulder, presumably to reassure me. "It's probably just a part of your mutation," she informed me. "It's nothing to get upset about."  
  
I calmed down a little then, and glared back at my reflection in the mirror. "I don't want to be a mutant," I grumbled and wheeled myself out of the bathroom, leaving her there.  
  
I continued on to the stairs, where I stopped abruptly, realizing that you cannot proceed down a staircase in a wheelchair. So I sat there for a minute.  
  
"Need some help, sugah?" The woman, who I later learned to be Rogue, lifted me up -in the wheelchair!- and fly me down the stairs. Yes, we flew. I almost had a heart attack. But I got down the stairs!   
  
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After lunch (I skipped breakfast) I ended up outside on the porch, by myself. I rubbed my eye furiously, while I watched some of the other students playing in the yard. They were playing softball, or baseball, or something, but they all seemed to have a different power to use to get ahead of the others. I glanced over my shoulder at my wings absently, then turned my attention back to the kids.  
  
"Madison?"  
  
"Lulu."  
  
"Lulu then," I recognized the voice as belonging to Paige. "Hank wants me to introduce you to Warren; you're supposed to be doing your physical therapy now."  
  
"Physical therapy? For what?"  
  
She pointed to the offending limbs. "Oh," I said, my wings twitching as I rubbed my eye. "I don't really want to now."  
  
"Hank said it wasn't an option. Come on," she grabbed the handles, and steered the wheelchair back inside. I flinched and put my shades back on; a boy who had a heavenly glow went passed us and made my eyes hurt.  
  
"So, who is this Warren guy," I asked. "He's the guy who's helping you with your wings."  
  
Thank you, Captain Obvious. No, Captain Blonde.   
  
"O-kaaaay," I said as we boarded the elevator. We rode it down in silence, until we reached out floor. Then she pushed me out, and down a cold, steel hall, the same one I had been on my way from the infirmary. We wheeled past it and came to a door. She turned me away from the door, most likely so I couldn't see her put the password in or something.  
  
The door whooshed open, and she wheeled me in. It was a large, hollow room. Her footsteps echoed off the walls, well, if you could call them walls. The whole room was dome-shaped, and contained gymnastics equipment, tumbling mats and the like. I hoped I would not be doing that; I was a major klutz, despite my years in gymnastics....when I was 6.  
  
I looked around, mouth slightly agap. It was huge, and round, and metal, and shiny....oooooh....  
  
"I take it you've never been in this training room before," said manly voice.  
  
THIS training room? As in more than one? "No, I haven't," I turned to face a tall, handsome, blonde, winged.....millionaire. Millionaire?  
  
"Um....has anybody ever told you-"  
  
"I look like Warren Worthington III," he finished. "That's because I AM Warren Worthington III." My eyebrows shot way up there as I stared at his wings. "You're going to help me," I asked quizzically.   
  
"Yes, is there a problem," he stepped forward, nodding to Paige, who left shortly after. So now I was alone. In a shiny metal room. With a blonde millionaire angel. Any other female would be slobbering to have a chance like this. Any other female. Not I, said the little one-eyed mutant.  
  
"No problem, I just didn't expect someone who owned half the world to help me learn not to fall on my ass."  
  
He laughed and spread his wings. "Well put, but not exactly correct. You're going to learn to fly too."  
  
Whee. I was so excited. Really. It was like somebody just gave me $550, a hot guy and an awesome car. No, really.  
  
"I can't fly if I can't walk," I mumbled sourly.   
  
"Exactly, which is why we teach you to walk first," he came over and hoisted me out of my chair by the arm. "Now, try to balance," he said, releasing my arm. I fell flat on my face.   
  
This was going to be -fun-.  
  
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Disclaimer: THE X-MEN DO NOT BELONG TO ME, I DO NOT CLAIM TO OWN THEM, THEY BELONG TO MARVEL. Had to get that in there so Marvel wouldn't sue me. Not like I've got any money anyways. ^^;; All the original characters belong to me (Frostbite, Negativity, Rift, Inferno, etc) and you can't use them unless you ask me first. So there. (AishiyuriiKomojo@neo.rr.com) 


	9. Chapter VIII: Still Learning to Crawl

Notes: THANKS TO EVERYBODY! ^_^ My tiny little inspiration fairy is home! Once again! I got a bunch of chapters together, introducing awesoem new characters. You'll love them all. Unless I say otherwise. XD  
  
More Notes: Hey, visit my tiny RPG!  
  
http://pub117.ezboard.com/bsuperheroesrpg  
  
I love you people. ^^ Tell me what you think of the last chapter, I personally thought it was a bit dry. I promise they'll be MUCH more exciting from now on; once Lulu gets settles in, others will join her, and then comes the violence. XD Hey, this is X-Men, not some sissy Hello Kitty fic. Not that Hello Kitty is bad or anything.   
  
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Chapter VIII: Still Learning to Crawl  
  
I glared up at him as best as I could from my place on the floor. My wings prevented me from getting up, or even moving. Besides wobbling a little bit like a turtle. "Are you going to help me, or just stand there and laugh at my misfortune?"  
  
"You're not even trying," Mr. Worthington said, a stern look on his face. "You need to try."  
  
"I can't move! Do you not see me flailing my arms, like a turtle turned over on the road, about to be hit by the 16-wheel truck of life?"  
  
He raised an eyebrow at that one. "A bit dramatic, are we?"  
  
"I've been told I deserve an Oscar."  
  
He rolled his eyes and helped me up, holding me by my upper arms. "We're going to walk over to the balance beams, okay?"  
  
We? There was no 'we'. I couldn't stand, let alone walk. He basically dragged me over there and let met go. I grabbed on to the beams to save myself from falling. I opened my mouth to say something, when a man walked in, a good-looking chesnut haired man, with the oddest eyes I had ever seen. Red on black. He gave be a boy-ish grin, and I could feel myself blush a little.  
  
I tried to pull myself up to avoid anymore embarrassment, but only succeeded in slipping further towards the floor. "Bee' having trouble wit' standing, mon petite?" He walked over near me, and flipped up onto the balance beam. I glowered at the floor, clutching the beam with one arm and rubbing my bad eye with my free hand. He could flip and walk and be alive, and I had to hang onto a balance beam for dear life? Fate hath dealt thee a cruel hand, oh one-eyed one.  
  
"She doesn't have any trouble. She could do it if she tried."  
  
My wings twitched, as if in disagreement with him. I couldn't hold on any more, and my grip failed. I feel face down on the floor again with a yelp. I heard the Cajun (I thought he was Cajun, I couldn't really tell) chuckle, presumably at me, and Mr. Worthington sigh.   
  
"You could help me up. Or you could laugh at me," I snapped at the man above me, trying to push myself up off the mat.  
  
"I think I will take the latter," he laughed, then offered me a hand up. I took it reluctantly, and he pulled me up. I swung my head up and met Mr. Millionaire gaze. "Can I go now," I whined. "No, you just got here!"  
  
I lowered my head again in defeat. The man holding me up chuckled again, then hoisted me up onto the beam. "You goin' 'bout it all wrong, Angel," he said to Mr. Worthington.  
  
"And you could do it better, Remy?"  
  
"Remy didn't say dat. Remy just t'ink not doin' it right, oui?"  
  
He looked at me, holding me at arms length. Like I mentioned before, any girl would KILL ME to be in a room, alone with Warren Worthington II. Now add Mr. Hypno Eyes-who-Speaks-French? Whoohoo! Steamy, cheesy 'romance' novel!  
  
And of course, all I could think about was getting out of here and going back to my room to watch a DVD. Putz.   
  
"Is the right way of doing it going back upstairs to watch a DVD and pretend I'm walking?" I gave a nervous smile.  
  
Remy raised an eyebrow and let go. I, of course, being the talented person I am, flailed my arms around until I fell on my face again.  
  
"You are supposed to try to fly with your wings, not your arms," said Mr. Worthington.  
  
I vowed to wear his pretty blonde hair around my neck as a victory trophy.  
  
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The next 3 hour (yes 3 -hours-) consisted muchly of the same thing: them trying to get me to walk, me trying to walk, and me falling on my face. I'm surprised my nose wasn't broken then. But I digress.  
  
Once I was free, I wheeled myself to the den, where a bunch of guys where already there, watching football. Hell yeah. I didn't like many sports then, but football was the one I loved. I was a Dallas girl, born and bred. Who cares if I lived in Ohio?  
  
I pushed myself to the side of the couch so I could see the TV past the horde of men who were obscuring my view. There was Mr. Bob from the other day, Mr. Wagner, Mr. Summers (which surprised me greatly to see him there; he didn't seem like a football kinda guy), a short, hairy, mean-looking guy that I had thought I saw before (but couldn't remember for sure) and a tough looking black man, who looked like he'd really rather not be there.  
  
I remember one of that year's rookies fumbled the ball, and there was -pandemonium-. Popcorn, chips, and who knows what else flew through the air as everybody shouted at the TV, myself included. That rookie was an idiot. His name escapes me now, but......I had dubbed him Dallas Idiot. The next hour consisted of the same thing, and I tired of Dallas Idiot, and wheeled myself out to the porch again.  
  
There were two boys sitting out there playing cards. One looked like a normal kid, the other....looked like he belonged in an aquarium. They both looked up at me as I wheeled myself out there.   
  
"Hi," the sandy-haired boy chirped. I paused, then smiled a little. "Hi kid."  
  
"Hey," said the fish boy. "Hello," I said.  
  
"Wanna play with us?"  
  
I was surprised then, I wasn't used to being invited to play, even as a child. I was a little bit of an outcast, because I wasn't shallow and superficial like all the other kids.  
  
But they seemed nice, they were about 3 years younger than me, I guessed. Probably on the verge of puberty. After puberty, they turn into monsters. I'm sure all you girls understand me and are saying amen right now.  
  
I pushed myself closer, and looked at the cards on the table. "What are you playing?"  
  
"Yu-Gi-Oh," exclaimed the fish boy happily. "I don't know how to play; mind if I just watch?"  
  
The sandy-haired boy shrugged. "Sure, we can teach you too. My name's Carter."  
  
"I'm Sammy," nodded the fish boy.   
  
"Lulu."  
  
"That's a funny name," Carter informed me. "It's okay," I said, peering over Sammy's shoulder. "Is that a good hand?"  
  
"Very," he gurgled happily. I wheeled around to the other side to see Carter's cards. I wasn't big on Yu-Gi-Oh; I hated the show and the cards were like Greek to me. It should be more simple like P- err, like other card games.  
  
"Is that a good hand, I queried. He leaned over and whispered into my ear. "Not really."  
  
I nodded and watched them play. They spouted a bunch of mumbo jumbo I couldn't understand, but I guess was important to become a true 'King of Cards' or whatever. They played for about half an hour, until Annie came to call us for dinner.  
  
She pushed a man in a wheelchair out, the one I had seen in the infirmary before. He looked very pale, and had a scar across his face. "Is that your husband Ms.....Annie," I couldn't remember her last name Ghazi-whata-huzza. She got a melancholy look on her face, and I immediately felt bad.  
  
"No, this is Scott's brother, Alex," she said softly, pushing him onto the porch. "I'm just looking after him."  
  
"I'm hungry," declared Carter, and ran into the house, Sammy following close behind. I apologised to Annie, and wheeled myself inside.  
  
Don't you just hate those awkward moments? I rubbed my eye as I continued down the hall, remembering my encounter with Mrs. Grey-Summers earlier. I thought maybe I should apologize, when I was snapped out of my train of thought by an iceball, right to my temple.   
  
"HEY!!"  
  
Bobby ran past me, being chased by Mr. Remy. I sigh; I knew it was going to be a looong dinner.   
  
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Disclaimer: THE X-MEN DO NOT BELONG TO ME, I DO NOT CLAIM TO OWN THEM, THEY BELONG TO MARVEL. Had to get that in there so Marvel wouldn't sue me. Not like I've got any money anyways. ^^;; All the original characters belong to me (Frostbite, Negativity, Rift, Inferno, etc) and you can't use them unless you ask me first. So there. (AishiyuriiKomojo@neo.rr.com) 


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